Back from Purgatory
by Redheadlass
Summary: Introduction to OC Jessie, who was in purgatory with Dean. Takes place during Season 8, Episode 1, so... spoilers. Spanking in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1 - Exit and Reunion

Dean came tumbling out of the rift after me, no Cas in sight. "Where...?" I began, but he grabbed my hand. "Keep moving," he ordered, gruffly, worry and grief etched across his face. I knew that look and subsided, following him into the forest.

He left me in the woods while he stole a minimum of gear and directions from some campers. Four days later, we were in Louisiana to free Benny, having hitched all the way there. I helped him dig up the grave.

I watched while he slit his forearm open and there was Benny. I ran into his arms and hugged him tight while he and Dean said their goodbyes. Dean said he wanted to keep his distance for awhile, but I could feel the pain behind his words. He was scared and unsure of the future. He trusted Benny in Purgatory but wasn't sure what he would do back on earth, and he didn't want to face the possibilities. Benny tilted my head up and looked me in the eye. "You stay out of trouble, girlie," he said to me. He kissed the top of my head. I let go reluctantly. "Bye, Benny," I said, softly. I watched him go.

We walked out of there and Dean stole a car. "What now?" I asked him.

"We're headed to the cabin," he said, "to see if we can find any trace of Sam and the Impala, and to find out what happened to Kevin."

"Ok," I said, settling back into the seat for the ride.

"And to get you back into your schoolwork."

I sat up quick. "Schoolwork? What the hell, Dean? Who cares about schoolwork after what we've been through?"

Dean checked the rear view mirror and turned onto the highway. "Again," he said, fighting for patience, "you're not going to lead a hunter's life. You're going to finish high school, finish college, and do something normal, something safe."

I stared out the window. We'll see, I thought. Out loud, I said, "Yeah, because fighting for a year in purgatory prepared me for a 'normal' life."

Dean took a moment from watching the road to catch my eye. "We're not arguing about this," he said. "You're not living this life for any longer than you have to."

"Then why the hell am I still with you?" I demanded angrily, my eyes burning from tears. "Why the hell did you chase me down when I ran away from Bobby's when I was eleven? Why the hell haven't you offloaded me onto someone else now that he's gone? I'm sixteen. I've been with you for five years. I learned to control my abilities after the first year. I'm excellent at it now. There's no more danger to society. You could very easily just let me go; so why don't you just drop me at some welfare office and be done with it? I don't HAVE to live this life now!"

Dean glanced at me with frustration and determination on his face, then he took a longer look before saying with concern in his voice, "Breathe, little girl. Sit back and take a few breaths."

That's when I realized that my skin was starting to glow. I pushed myself back against the seat of the crappy old car Dean had found, closed my eyes, and concentrated on breathing for a few minutes. When I had calmed down, I opened my eyes and went back to breathing normally. I wasn't glowing any longer. I sighed and looked at my feet. "Point taken," I whispered.

"Thank you," he said, but he didn't say anything else, and I knew that he was thinking the same thing I was.

Regardless of what his goals for me were, how the hell was I going to operate in normal society? It was a question that had haunted me since I'd turned eleven and burned down my parents house with them in it, and then had fled to the woods to eventually be found by Sam and Dean. That's a story for another day, but the question still remained. I'd come to think that hunting was the best place for me: weird abilities fighting bad guys. It seemed like the perfect answer, but Sam and Dean both were against me choosing it as my life.

The trouble was that I only ever barely had control over the fire. If I lost my temper, I'd lose tendrils of it, and things would light up. Even when things were calm, when I was calm, I could feel it at my temples and the base of my skull, pulsing to get out. It had taken years to get it under the amount of control that I had over it, and a lot of that control deteriorated in purgatory. Oh, I was much better at directing the flame and controlling the intensity now, but the need to set things on fire, the pulsing, it was so much greater, so much harder to resist. I hoped in the back of my mind that living a more normal life than the one that Dean and I had had in purgatory would help, but we'd only been back four days, and every once in awhile, I'd sneak away from Dean just to light something up, just a little bit, because it just felt so good.

If he caught me doing that, I'd be in so much trouble.

It was a long drive to Whitefish, Montana. Dean switched cars a couple of times, conned some money, stole some credit cards to get us some fresh clothes. We spent one night in a motel so we could clean up, but the rest of the time he spent driving with short breaks for a quick sleep. I was anxious and eager to see Sam. I hoped he was at the cabin, that he hadn't gotten killed after we'd been pulled into purgatory. Dean left message after message on Sam's old numbers, but Sam never called back. Dean was trying not to show it, but he was frantic with worry.

The cabin was empty when we got to it. We'd dumped the car in town and walked the rest of the way to the cabin. Once we got there, I helped Dean circle the cabin and the land around it, looking for any signs, demon, angel, or Sam. There was nothing. No one had been in the cabin for months. Once Dean declared it safe, we went inside. Then, Dean redid a lot of the protections around the cabin, while I watched and learned.

We spent several hours after that cleaning the inside of the cabin. Food had gone bad, windows had been broken by branches and let in nature. Dean did repairs, while I cleaned. In my old room, I found my old laptop and plugged it in, hoping it would charge back up. I also found my schoolbooks. I stashed them in the closet, on the top shelf, as far back as I could put them hoping that out of sight would be out of mind.

When I came out carrying my old phone, Dean was crouched in front of the fireplace, stacking logs with the clear intention of starting a fire. My mouth dried out and my pulse quickened. I dropped my phone without realizing it, caught in the anticipation of fire. Dean looked up at the noise. "No," he said, immediately. He turned back to the fireplace to finish stacking the logs.

"Please, Dean? It's been days," I said. It hadn't been days. Earlier, when he'd been fixing a window pane, I'd lit some sticks and leaves on fire in the front of the cabin, on some rocks so that I wouldn't be caught. I could feel the fire spinning through me, aching to be let out. I didn't remember when it had last been this bad.

Dean turned away from the fireplace and stood up, brushing his hands on the front of his thighs. "Do you see a fire extinguisher here?" he asked me. I nodded to the one on the kitchen wall. "Can you trust a fire extinguisher that hasn't been checked by the fire department recently?" he continued.

"No," I whispered. It was calling to me. I stared at the wood in the fireplace.

Dean cut in front of my gaze and took my chin in his hand. "No, Jessie," he said. "It's not safe." I wanted to cry, but he was right. The more I gave in, the more it would call to me. That much had always been clear. I'd used it all the time in purgatory, though, and I was used to it. It didn't seem fair that I'd had to just go back to the old rules now that we were back. Dean hugged me, and I clung to him as tightly as I could.

"Did you find your schoolbooks?" he asked me. I stiffened.

"No," I said. "They're not here."

He tilted his head a little and tilted my chin up so that I was looking him in the eye. "You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?"

"No," I said. I pulled away from him. "I looked in the bedrooms; they aren't there. Go look yourself."

"No, I trust you," he said. I flinched a little, but he didn't notice. "We'll have to get you some more. Go find something to do while I work on dinner." He turned back to the fireplace.

I didn't move for a minute, staring longingly at the logs. I started to reach just one small tendril out, invisible to everyone, but I could feel it like stretching a limb. Then, Dean's head jerked up and I heard it, too: the Impala. I snatched back the tendril just as Dean turned to me. "Get in your room. Close the door. Wait until I give the ok."

I obeyed immediately, pausing only to grab my phone, listening through the door as Dean went through to checks to make sure Sam wasn't a shifter, a demon, or a leviathan. I listened to their conversation, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I could tell Dean was hurt and mad, and Sam was defensive and upset. I wanted to shake Sam for not looking for us, for abandoning everything. I wanted to shake Dean for not understanding Sam's side; after all, we'd taken a year off and lived with Lisa and Ben when Sam was in hell. We didn't even try to get him out. Of course, we'd known where he was and that there was no way to retrieve him. Even if Sam had known we were in purgatory, would he have been able to get us out? I had no idea, but I didn't want to be in the middle of the conversation, so I stayed in my room, just like Dean had told me to.

Finally, Dean called me out, just before he stormed out of the room. I opened my door slowly, and then ran into Sam's arms. He hugged me tightly and kissed the top of my head. "I missed you, Sam," I said.

"I missed you, too, squirt," he said. "I'm glad you made it back." He let me go. "I'm hungry. Are you?"

I nodded and sat down at the little table while Sam made dinner. Dean slammed back into the room with a box of phones. Both of them were clearly hurt and upset. It was tense just sitting in the room, but I didn't know what to do. I was almost afraid to move, fearful of bringing any attention to myself. Sam finished heating up the can of whatever that he had tossed into a pot and asked Dean if he wanted any dinner. Dean passed and started listening to the voice mails on the phone, while Sam set down a bowl in front of me and we ate.

"No complaints about canned chili, squirt?" Sam asked me lightly.

"This is better than anything we ate in purgatory," I responded. "It's called perspective." I grinned at him, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled a little and then glanced at Dean. "What?" he asked. I tightened up again and glanced over to see Dean's angry, disappointed face. It was the face he wore any time that I was in deep shit for something I had done or neglected to do.

I tried to stay out of everyone's attention while Dean played all of Kevin's phone messages for Sam, Sam getting more and more agitated, my heart sinking. He wrapped up with: "He was our responsibility, and you couldn't pick up the damn phone." Sam caught the phone that Dean had flung at him.

Dean turned around to sit back down on the couch to dig through the phones some more. "Jessie," he said without looking at me, "when you're done eating, go get your laptop and find some more schoolbooks to order."

Sam was digging through his stuff and looked up. "Her schoolbooks are in her room, on her bed."

Dean turned his already aggravated look to me. "You said they weren't."

Fuck. "I... uh..." I stuttered. I had not expected this to turn onto me, and I was unprepared to lie again.

"You said you weren't lying," Dean said, standing back up.

I stood there with my mouth agape, unclear of the safest path.

Dean pointed at my room. "Go to your room, get your schoolbooks, and get back out here. Now!"

I rushed to obey. I brought them out and put them on the table, sitting down to open them up. Dean came over to me, and leaned over me.

"That better be the last time you lie to me, little girl. We've had this discussion before. Do not start up your bad habits again."

I swallowed, knowing I was getting away with it, sort of, and grateful for the reprieve. "Yes, Dean," I whispered, not meeting his eyes. Dean went back to the couch. I looked at Sam.

He set his laptop down on the table, shaking his head. "Figure out where you left off, write it down. We'll work out a lesson plan later."

I opened the Biology book. Sam put his hand over mine and I looked up at him. "Schoolwork is important, squirt. You're going to need to know this stuff when you get to college."

Not wanting to argue with all the tension in the room, I just sighed. "All right," I said.

While Sam worked on his computer and Dean messed around with phones and other equipment on the couch, I spent the next hour poking through the schoolbooks trying to figure out where I'd left off. It was all such a blur that I worried I was going to have to start over, but finally, I started finding things I remembered. You think summer break disrupts learning and memory? Try a year in purgatory.

Finally, Sam broke the silence with the news that he had figured out where to start looking for Kevin. Kevin's girlfriend, Channing, was in Centerville, Michigan, and Sam heard a bus announcement for Centerville on the last recording. Suddenly, everything was a blur as we packed up our stuff and carried it out the Impala to head to Centerville. I dumped my stuff into the backseat and climbed in, wrinkling my nose a little because it didn't smell right.

Once we started moving, I pulled out my phone to play around with it. Sam reached into the back seat and snatched it from my hands. "Finish figuring out where you were, and then you can play on your phone."

"But," I began. He tilted his head at me and I stopped. "Fine," I muttered, shoving my laptop bag to the side angrily to dig out my World History book.

"Lose the attitude," Dean said, looking at me through the rear-view mirror. Yeah, like it's that easy. I sighed and settled in for a long ride.


	2. Chapter 2 - Rest Stops and Hotel Rooms

I'd forgotten what it was like to be trapped in a car for hours on end. In purgatory, there was always something to fight, always something to guard against. Fight, run, guard so someone else can sleep, sleep, repeat. Now, though, I was trapped in a car, staring at books that made no sense and weren't important. It made me angry. What was the fucking point?

It was a 29-hour ride to where we were going, at normal speeds, and the idea of holding still for that long was driving me bonkers. We'd driven through the night, and now at about sixteen hours into the ride, I'd given up and was just staring quietly out the window. Sam and Dean were alternating between what passed for small talk between the two of them and uneasy silence. I really wished they would start working their shit out, but there wasn't anything to do about it. Nothing I could say would get them talking, and past experience had proved that being pushy was bad for my comfort on long car rides.

The trees were swishing past in a blur. Pine, pine, maple, oak, pine, pine, pine. All that wood and nothing I could burn. I closed my eyes and imagined the trees lighting up in the beautiful orange glow of fire… Damn it, I couldn't hold still for any longer! I shifted up onto my knees on the seat and leaned onto the back of the front seat.

"Hey guys," I said, interrupting their current spate of interminable silence, where Dean was staring doggedly out the windshield and Sam was staring down at his laptop, reading up on something. I didn't really care what. "Pit stop might be nice."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You have the bladder of a little girl," he grinned at me.

"You bet," I said.

Sam didn't look up. "Why's your seatbelt off?" he asked.

"You try wearing a seatbelt for 29 hours straight," I responded grumpily. He looked up from the computer and met my eyes. I didn't like the threat I saw there. "Fine. Jesus, overreact much?" I slammed myself back into the seat and fastened the middle seatbelt across my waist, rolling my eyes as obviously as I could so that he would see how very put out I was at the suggestion that I wear that fucker all the time. "Dean, when are we going to stop?" A distinct whine had crept into my voice, without my meaning it to.

"First place I see," Dean said. The two of them lapsed back into a more companionable silence. I stared out the window. The need to burn itched its way up and down my arms. I started scratching them, trying to make it stop. There was nothing to light in the car, or at least, nothing safe to light. My ass would be toast if I lit something on fire in the car, on purpose, with no real reason other than this incessant need to burn… something.

I stared out the window. More trees. I itched; I scratched. I ran my fingers through my hair and fiddled with my necklace. I contemplated setting one of the trees on fire, just for a moment, and then quickly discarded that idea. Yeah, I didn't think I'd get caught, but I also wouldn't be able to put it out, and I could cause some real damage to the area before it burned itself out. That was inexcusable, or so I'd been taught.

I stared at my schoolbooks. I could burn them, right? I mean, not right now, but I could… We were on the move now. There was no ordering schoolbooks if there was nowhere to have the books delivered to. I shook my head to try to get rid of that temptation.

And then Dean was pulling off the road at a rest stop. Oh, thank goodness. I was practically dancing in my seat with relief when we stopped. Sam got out and headed towards the men's room. I reached for my car door, but Dean turned around and looked at me. "We're not staying here a long time, Jessie. In and out and back on the road, understand?"

My face fell. "Dean, I can't sit still. This is so different than what I'm used to now. Can I just… can I go for a run? Do we have time for that?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope, sorry."

"Mother…" I started, and then stopped when I saw the look on his face.

Dean sighed. "I get it, Jessie. For the last year, you've been in full on combat mode. You're used to moving, to action, and staying in the car isn't cutting it for you. We're going to be stopping at a motel later. If it's not too late, you can go for a run then. If it is too late, you can run before we get back on the road. Ok? I'm sorry, but we need to find Kevin a.s.a.p."

They were always so reasonable in their demands, most of them anyway, and they always tried to take what I wanted or needed into account. It made me feel like shit for resenting the demand in the first place. I sighed. "Fine," I said again. With shoulders slumped, I got out of the car and headed to the ladies' room. I heard Dean get out and follow along after me.

The rest stop was pretty deserted. There was no one in the side of the ladies' room that I went in. I went into the handicapped stall because it had more room and did my business, scratching at my arms the entire time. Then an idea occurred to me, and I acted without thinking about it.

I used my knife to open the toilet paper holder. It was one of those industrial-sized things, but it was more than half-empty, enough to do the job without bringing too much attention to me. I set the roll into the sink and stepped back as far as I could to stand in the corner opposite the toilet. I reached out a tendril. Control. I had to maintain control. I touched the roll with the tendril and let go.

I shouldn't have let go. The tendril engulfed the roll like there was gasoline on it. Flames went shooting up towards the ceiling, bright, orange, and beautiful… but way too big! I panicked and instead of quenching the flame with my mind, I took two steps towards the sink, reaching to turn on the faucet. But the flames suddenly died down and went out. Not enough fuel to maintain the fire. I slumped next to the sink in relief. I leaned my head against my knees and let myself cry.

The bathroom smelled like smoke now. The fire had been so suddenly there and so suddenly gone, that the fire alarm hadn't gone off and the sprinklers hadn't been activated. I'd been lucky.

"Hey," someone said in a disgruntled, crotchety voice. "You can't smoke in there." She banged on the stall door.

"I'm not," I said, getting to my feet. "It wasn't me." I glanced at the sink. It was covered in soot. So was the mirror and parts of the wall. I'd never been so glad that I was a girl and Sam and Dean weren't allowed in here. I opened the stall door to see an older lady moving her way down the stalls. When she got to the one that she wanted, she turned to look at me.

"Shouldn't be smoking, girl," she said. "It'll kill you. You'll get cancer, like my late husband."

I rolled my eyes. "Ok, I'll remember that," I said.

"If you want to fool your parents, though, you'd better clean up a bit before you go back out." And with that, she closed herself into stall and started singing.

Weird old lady, I thought; then I looked in one of the mirrors over the sinks. My face was pink and streaked with some soot from the fire I'd set. If I'd walked out of the bathroom looking like this, Dean would have known I'd been up to something. I owed that old lady big time, weird or not.

Unfortunately, it was one of those new rest stops that had moved away from carrying almost any kind of paper product. I had to resort to scrubbing the soot off my face with my hands, soap, and water. It took forever. Soot is not the easiest thing to get off. Eventually, I started using the sleeves of my hoodie to scrub at my face, and that's when I realized the sleeves were scorched from when I had tried to turn on the faucets. I started to panic.

"Breathe, Jessie, breathe," I whispered to myself. "You can figure this out." I used the hoodie sleeves to finish scrubbing at my face by pulling the cuffs down over my hands and using them like a washcloth. Then I pulled the hoodie off and tied the sleeves around my waist, trying to make sure that the scorched bits were tied off.

I did a final check in the mirror. It seemed like I had gotten everything. I might need a story if Dean or Sam wanted to know why I wasn't wearing my hoodie when it was this cold out, but I thought I could fabricate something about having gotten the sleeves wet while I was in the bathroom. It was true, after all, just not the exact truth.

I was just leaving the bathroom when I realized that the singing had stopped. I called back over my shoulder, "Thank you!" I got no response, but I headed on my way anyway.

Dean and Sam were waiting by the car. Dean was sitting on it, while Sam was standing in front of him going on about something. As I got closer, I realized they were talking about the plan again. I walked around them and got into the back seat of the car. The less they noticed me right now, the better.

Dean stood up and got into the car, arguing with Sam the entire time. I hurriedly took the hoodie and shoved it into my backpack. Then Dean sniffed a couple of times.

Shit. I hadn't thought about the distinct smell of smoke and burning that I would carry with me on my clothes.

I tried to act nonchalant as both of them turned around to look at me. "What?" I asked.

"Why do you smell like smoke?" Dean asked me stonily.

I pulled the front of my shirt out and took a long sniff; then I shrugged. "I do?"

Dean's glare got fiercer. "You do."

"Someone was smoking in the bathroom. Maybe it's from that." Dean stared at me for a long time. I didn't dare break eye contact.

"I'm going to ask you this once, and you better not lie to me," he said slowly. "Did. you. light. a. fire?"

"No, Dean," I said, fighting to maintain control over my wavering vocal chords. I blinked.

"What's the punishment for lying, Jessie?" Dean asked.

"Twice whatever I have coming for what I did," I answered. I curled my hands into fists in my lap and fought to not give any kind of indication that I might be lying.

"You'd better not be lying then," he said. Then he turned back around and started the car. Sam looked at me for another minute before he turned around, too.

The worst part of it all was that I was still itchy, and the flame still wanted out.

We finally pulled into the Palm Motel. Sam wanted to rest and Dean needed a break from driving, even though he wouldn't admit it. Sam pointed out that we had been on the road for twenty hours by then. We ate dinner at the diner across from the motel and then settled in for a few hours of rest.

I was exhausted. I didn't even want to run any more. I just wanted to sleep. "Shower, teeth, and then bed," Dean said. He sat on the bed, lost in thought, while I went about my business. Sam left to go get a roll-away bed from the front office for me to sleep on. When I came out of the tiny bathroom dressed in a long t-shirt, Sam had the roll-away set up. He kissed and hugged me goodnight before going into the bathroom to do his own thing. Dean tucked me in, kissing me goodnight. I fell asleep immediately.

A little while later, I was awoken by Dean saying, "Hey, the rules are simple, Sam. You don't take a joint from a guy named Don and there's no dogs in the car!" I didn't move, though. I just listened as Dean said that purgatory felt pure, but then he said something else.

"Jessie, though, she didn't handle it as well. She was a trooper, but she was using her abilities all the time, Sam. Burning monsters; lighting fires to see, to cook. I tried to restrain her, warn her not to use it for just anything, but there was always a reason. She was using it every day. She got used to using it every day."

Sam didn't say anything for a minute. "That means she's going to want to keep using it like that."

There was a pause, and then Dean said, "We're going to have to keep an eye on her. We don't want her abilities getting out of control. It's bad for her and it could be bad for a lot more people."

The next morning, Dean woke me up by shaking me. It was the deepest I'd slept since we'd gotten back. Something about safety in old habits, I guess. Hotel rooms feel like home if it's most of what you've known.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Dean crouched down in front of me and handed me my hoodie, scorched sleeves on top. "You wanna explain this?"

I blanched. There had to be a way to salvage this. "You went through my backpack?" I demanded angrily.

And then Sam was standing right next to him. "So completely not the point, young lady."

I looked back at Dean and realized that I had no out. I started crying. "I had to. It had been days. I couldn't help it. I had to let it out."

Dean raised an eyebrow at me. "Talk to me," he said.

Through my tears, I said, "I set a fire in the bathroom sink, but I used too much and it got out of control, but it burned itself out because it didn't have enough fuel to keep going. I wasn't in any danger. I was across the stall by the toilet."

"If you were all the way across the room, how did your hoodie get scorched?" Dean demanded.

I struggled for a reasonable explanation, but couldn't come up with one. I dropped my eyes. "I thought it was going to keep burning, so I was reaching for the faucets. Then it went out."

Sam cleared his throat. "So, let me sum this up," he said. "You went into the bathroom, broke into the toilet paper dispenser, stole the roll, put it in the sink, and set it on fire. When it got out of control, you rushed over to turn on the water to put it out instead of putting it out from where you were, using your abilities."

I nodded sadly, but he wasn't done. "Then, you came out of the bathroom, hid the hoodie from us, and then told us someone had been smoking in the bathroom and that's why you smelled like smoke. Does that just about cover the whole thing?"

I was so fucked. I stared at my hands on top of the blankets and just waited.

"How many other times have you lit a fire without telling us?" Dean asked in a deadly calm voice.

"None," I whispered, hoping that wouldn't come back to bite me later.

"Why should we believe that?" Sam asked. "You've proven that you are entirely willing and capable of lying to us."

I squirmed. "I don't know. You shouldn't, I guess."

"Have you?" Sam pressed.

"No, Sam."

Dean shook his head and stood up. "We don't have time to deal with this, but we have to. I can't have you running around with me on hunts if I can't trust you, and I can't trust you right now."

I started sobbing, still staring at the blankets in my lap. "I'm sorry, Dean. I won't do it again. I promise." I looked up at him, my eyes big and leaking tears. He looked at me for a long time. "I just couldn't help it," I insisted.

He tilted his head. "Jessie, I need to know that you are going to obey me, and that you are going to control those abilities of yours. If you aren't and you can't, then we need to send you off to someone who will show you how to use them, how to control them. You can't just be setting fires willy-nilly at rest stops. You certainly can't then lie to me about it. That is unacceptable."

"I won't. I can control it. I won't do it again. I swear!"

Dean went and sat down on the end of the bed he'd spent the night in. "Come here."

So fucked.

I got up and walked over to him. When I got near him, he reached out and pulled me over his lap. I'd barely landed when his hand was swinging down onto my panty-clad behind. Two, three, four smacks and I was breathless. Six and I was crying, although it was more because I'd let him down, because I'd lied to him than it was because the spanking hurt. After twenty, I lost count like I always do, and soon, I was wiggling and fighting to get away from his descending palm.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry! I swear!" He didn't answer me. The swats continued to fall despite my pleas and my cries. And then it stopped. I caught my breath while he rested his hand on my lower back.

"We'd be done now, if you hadn't lied to me," he said. And then his hand fell again, and again, and again. I can only assume that he did as he promised and doubled the number of swats I'd already received, but I really don't know. I couldn't count any longer.

When he was done, I was sobbing. He helped me up and pulled me into his lap to hug me and hold me close to him. I cried into his shoulder. "Don't start fires without my permission," he said gruffly into my ear. "And don't. lie. to. me."

"Yes, Dean," I whispered. I clung to him, but it was the first time I'd felt at peace since we'd gotten back.

He held me for a few minutes and then he said, "Sam, your turn."

I looked up in alarm to see Sam laughing. When I looked back at Dean, he had a twinkle in his eye, and I knew I was forgiven.

"Go get ready so we can get on the road," Dean said. "We've got a college to get to and a prophet to find."


	3. Chapter 3 - Colleges and Brush Fires

The sun soaked into me, warming me from the outside in. I felt like I'd never been so relaxed than I was right now, lying on my stomach on the hood of the Impala. Granted, I was fully-dressed and I had my black hoodie laying over my head so that I didn't burn, damn my fair skin and red hair. My abilities may protect me some from getting lit on fire, but the protection from UV rays was pretty much nil. Didn't matter though; the sun heated my clothes and heated me, and that all I needed right now. It was luxurious.

Sam and Dean were off questioning Channing as FBI agents or some such. Since the authorities don't generally go around with sixteen-year-olds tagging along, I'd been told to stay with the Impala, which actually pleased Dean quite a bit because now he didn't have to worry so much about his precious baby, and I do mean the car. I probably wasn't supposed to be lying on her, but I figured that if they can put this poor car through so many accidents and crashes in the line of duty, if the button on my jeans put a scratch in the paint, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Hey," I heard. I didn't bother looking up, figuring that it wasn't directed at me, but then I heard it again, this time closer. "Hey."

I lifted the hoodie off my eyes and peered out, my eyes having to adjust to the light a bit. There was a guy coming towards me, brown hair, hoodie, tall, thin, and lanky. I tensed a bit, immediately wary. I sat up slowly and put my hoodie in my lap, digging into the pocket for my knife. "Yes?" I asked him. I swung my feet off the side of the car.

"Is this your car?" he asked, clearly in awe. His gaze swept from one end of the car to the other, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Sort of," I said. I relaxed a little. This guy was drawn to the car. That didn't mean he wasn't dangerous in some way, just that it was less likely.

"Impala, right?" he asked. He started circling the car. I hopped off the hood, worried about what he was going to do.

"Yes," I answered reluctantly, following him as he completed his circuit.

"And you say it's yours?"

I made a non-committal noise, not sure which was the better answer to get rid of him.

"Can you take me for a ride?" he asked, looking up at me for the first time. Suddenly, his eyes are all up and down and all over me like they'd been on the car. I took a step back.

"I don't think so," I said. "I'm waiting for someone."

He eagerly took a step forward, towards me. "Come on, it'll only take a minute. I'm dying to ride in her."

There was no chance of me getting into the car with this guy. I thought that I was probably reading him right, that he was just overeager and excited about the car, but you can never be sure when it comes to someone you don't know. I'd had experience in that area before. I made a quick decision to take a more aggressive stance.

"Dude," I said, stuffing my knife in my back pocket and crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I don't even know you and you want me to take you for a ride in my car? I seriously do not think so. Forget it."

The guy looked crestfallen, and I briefly wondered what planet he lived on where he thought that his approach would actually work. I don't know, maybe college girls are less cautious than I am, but I doubted it. I watched a bunch of thoughts cross his face and then he grinned really widely as if he'd figured out a way to get exactly what he wanted.

"Hey, there's a party tonight at my frat house. Wanna come? You'd have a great time and they'd all love to meet you."

I stared at him in complete disbelief. "No," I finally said, flatly. I looked at him with as much disinterest as I could, just shy of hostility. He finally seemed to get the hint.

"Oh, ok. Well, thanks then," he said. He turned around and started walking away.

"Who was that?" Sam asked. I turned. He'd approached from the side of us as we'd been talking. I hugged him tight.

"Some guy," I answered. I turned to look in the direction that the guy was walking, and he'd picked up his step and kept glancing back over his shoulder. I giggled. "I guess that he didn't want to get a closer look at the car after all, after he saw you."

Sam looked at him and looked at me, thoughtful. Apparently deciding that he didn't need to do anything about that, he went around to the trunk. "Channing said that she hasn't seen Kevin, so Dean and I are researching some more. He's doing legwork and I'm going digital. Wanna come sit with me at the café while I'll work on this?"

I smiled. "Sure!"

"Ok, get your laptop and your Biology book. I've got your lesson plans done, and you can get started on them.

I slouched and rolled my eyes. "Ugh, Saaaam…"

He grinned at me and ruffled my hair. "Come on, squirt. Let's go. It's better than hanging around the car getting hit on by strange guys."

"I'm pretty sure that he was hitting on the car, not on me," I grumbled as I opened the car door and retrieved my backpack and book. "What college kid is going to look twice at a fifteen-year-old?"

"You'd be surprised," Sam said. He shut the trunk, and I grabbed my hoodie off the hood. "You forget your age? You're sixteen, not fifteen."

"You don't age in Purgatory," I said, grumpily.

"You'll appreciate that later on," he said. He slung his arm across my shoulders and hugged me to him. "Besides, I don't want you to grow up that fast anyway."

I hugged him back and then shrugged his arm off my shoulders.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

A couple of hours later, I was most of the way through my first Biology assignment and Sam was looking smugly at his computer. He glanced at me again, the fifth time in the last minute. "You ok?" he asked me. "You're fidgeting a lot."

I stopped scratching at my arms. "Yeah," I said softly, "I'm ok."

Dean pulled the chair out next to me. "Don't judge me," he said. "I got bupkis."

The next couple of minutes were spent with Dean enjoying a hamburger and Sam outlining how he tracked down Kevin through his IP address. "Any chance I can get that in English?" Dean quipped.

"He's at a coffee shop in Iowa," Sam replied.

"Aw, damn it!" I swore. "More driving?" I ran my fingers through my hair again, fiercely, scratching at my scalp. Dean put his hand on my forearm.

"Stop it," he said. "Don't worry. We're going to stop somewhere and let you practice a bit."

"Really?" I squealed.

"Yes, really. Just let me finish this burger."

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

That night, Dean and I stood on the edge of Lake Michigan. Off the shoreline was one of those swimming platforms. There was no one around. Sam had swum out to the platform with a bunch of wood. He'd taken the split logs and set them out one by one on the swimming platform.

Dean crouched down next to me, which actually put him lower than me. He gestured me to crouch down, too. "All right," he said. He pointed out to the platform. "The goal is for you to set each one of those pieces of wood on fire and burn it completely to ash before moving to the next one, without scorching the swimming platform."

Sam walked out of the lake, water pouring off of him, and picked up a towel that he'd left on the shore next to most of his clothes. "I don't see why I was the one who had to swim out there," he complained mildly as he dried himself off.

"Sorry," I said. Then I stood up and turned my attention to the platform. My insides were jittery. I was so excited to finally be doing this. I narrowed my eyes at the first split log, barely visible from where I was standing. I opened up to the flame inside me and extended a tendril reaching it out to the swimming platform. I touched the log and burned it.

The flame roared through me. I was alight in ecstasy. It was only me and the fire. I had to fight not to just set the entire platform alight. Dean had said each log burned to ash before moving to the next one. I concentrated. I held the flame. I controlled it. The first one was gone, and I lit the second by hopping the tendril over, then again, again, again. Eleven of the twelve were gone and the last one was burning up. I increased the intensity of the flame, pushing more into it, burning it faster, and then it was gone and there was no fuel and I had nowhere to douse the flame.

I closed my eyes. I imagined the flame as water and imagined swallowing it. It burned as it went down, down, down into the central part of me, back into the furnace and I shut the door hard, cranking the imaginary furnace handle to prevent the door from swinging back open. I opened my eyes to the pleased looks on Dean and Sam's faces, while the flame screamed out from inside me for more.

Dean grabbed me and hugged me close, kissing the top of my head. "Good girl," he said. "Perfect."

Then Sam hugged me hard. I craned my head up to look at him and he was looking at Dean, meaningfully. I wished I knew what he was thinking and what Dean was thinking.

My brain whispered to me that he was thinking that I was a menace, a monster, not supposed to exist. I hugged him tighter, burying my head in his chest.

Dean gently tugged on my arm. "Jessie, you did so well, we have a reward for you."

I let go of Sam, fighting back the tears that were threatening to choke me. "You do?" I held my breath.

"The park rangers have a huge pile of brush they've gathered. Do you want to light it up?"

I let out my breath and nodded.

We got back into the car and drove further into the park to the place where the rangers stored their dead brush. We had to drive down roads marked 'park rangers only' to get to it. The brush was next to a mulching machine, but they had only just begun to mulch the summer's collection leaving a quite large brush collection for me to set on fire.

I got out of the car and started toward the pile.

"Jessie," Dean said sharply. "Hold up."

I rolled my eyes and danced from one foot to the other while I waited for the two of them to fetch the newly-bought fire extinguishers from the trunk. When they caught up with me, I turned back towards the brush.

"Wait," Sam said. "Tell us the rules."

I rolled my eyes again, stopped and turned around, sighing. "Come on, just let me do it."

"Hey," Dean said. "Repeat the rules or we get back in the car and you don't get to do this. You do this our way, little girl, or not at all."

I turned back to the brush. The fire was already calling me. "Uh, only the brush. Don't burn the stuff under or around it. If you say stop, stop pushing flame into the brush. If you said contain it, then I'm going over the boundaries of the brush and I need to pull it back to just the brush. I have to obey what you tell me, no matter what. If you say put it out, then put it out. Don't just let go."

"Ok, go ahead," Dean said from behind me.

I started walking forwards.

"Jessie," Sam said impatiently. "That's far enough."

But I wanted to be in the flame. I sighed and stopped. The last thing I needed right now was a spanking and this gift taken away.

I closed my eyes and imagined a huge fist of flame emanating from me, grabbing the brush and squeezing. Flame wooshed and heat pounded me. I gloried in the fire. I opened my eyes to just the brush pile burning brightly, high into the sky, quickly. I played with the fire, quenching the top of the brush pile, then the bottom, then lighting them back on fire. I pushed more power into the flame, more, more. It burned higher and higher, to the same height as the top of the nearest pine trees. I tensed and pushed harder. I gasped at the crescendo of power that poured out of me and into the brush. Then the brush fire was out, no more fuel, but the flame inside me was sated, and closing my eyes again, I led it tamely back into the furnace rather than having to fight it down.

When I opened my eyes, I was sitting on the ground. I put my head on my knees. This satiation was what purgatory had been like, drained and happy and no more need.

Sam came up behind me and scooped me up. "All right, come on," he said. "It's time to get back on the road." I leaned my head against his shoulder and let him put me in the car, where I promptly fell asleep.

I woke up awhile later to Sam and Dean's voices.

"Did you see how brightly she was glowing?" Sam asked. "Did you see what she did with the brush fire, putting some bits out and then relighting it?"

"Yeah," Dean said gruffly.

"Was she like that in purgatory, Dean?"

"No," Dean said. "It could have been because it had been so long since she'd let it out like that."

"Could she be getting stronger?"

Dean grunted.

"Dean, you've got to tell me what you know about this."

"I know the same thing you do, Sam. She lights fires. She can lose control if she doesn't do it enough, if she does it too often, or if she doesn't get a chance to control a big flame for a while. She also can lose control when she loses her temper, but she's got way more control than she used to. She was doing things I'd never seen her do before."

They were quiet for a moment, then Sam said, "Do you think she's been practicing in secret?"

"I've seen signs," Dean said. "But nothing conclusive. I think she's getting better at hiding it from us. She knows how to hide the signs now that she's older." He sighed.

"All right," Sam said. "We're going to have to start being harder on her if she's sneaking. There's got to be a consequence, because I've got news for you, Dean. I saw her face. She enjoys letting it out, and the only thing holding her back is her conscience and the fact that she's answerable to the two of us. I think we can get her past this, but…"

"All right," Dean said. "Let me think about it."

Then they started talking about Kevin, but I didn't go back to sleep. I stared at the sky through the back window and thought about what I'd heard, tears dripping out of my eyes.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Car and the Church

We stopped at a motel to sleep and clean up. There wasn't a lot of talk; we were all exhausted. Sam and Dean both crashed pretty hard right away, their breathing deepening and evening out almost immediately.

I just lay curled up in the roll-away bed and thought. Really, when it came down to it, they were just trying to help me get and keep control of this thing. Just one more thing I had to be grateful to them for. That voice in the back of my head, though, man, it kept whispering to me that I was broken, troublesome, a monster. It told me that I could never make it up to them, that I was beholden to them, that I didn't deserve their love.

I hated that voice.

I tried to shut it out, but only mostly succeeded, eventually falling into a fitful sleep where I was plagued with dreams of desire and flame, and being hunted.

In the morning, Dean shook me awake. I sat up and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. I'd probably gotten about three hours of sleep. I rubbed my sore eyes and stared at the lumps my feet made under the blanket.

"Jessie, get a move on," Dean said, as he stuffed his clothes into his backpack.

I grunted and slowly put my feet on the floor. I did not want to be awake. "Come on, Dean. He's not going anywhere. Can I just sleep for a couple more hours?"

Dean leveled a look at me. "We don't know he's not going anywhere," he said. "Our responsibility, Jessie."

I buried my head in my hands and groaned.

Dean crouched down in front of me. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired. I couldn't fall asleep."

"We need to go. Get up, shower, and get dressed. You can sleep in the car."

"Fine," I whined, swinging my feet out from under the blankets and over the side of the bed.

He stood up and set his hand on my head for a second. "Good girl," he said.

I slouched out of bed and dragged myself into the bathroom. I couldn't have been in there more than five minutes before Dean was banging on the door.

"Hurry up, Jessie," he said.

"God, leave me alone," I muttered. Louder, I said, "I'm going as fast as I can."

"Ten minutes."

I rolled my eyes and cranked the shower on. I climbed in. After washing every bit of me, I stood under the spray and just soaked in the hot water, until Dean banged on the door again. "Jessie! You're five minutes over. Get out here."

"Deeeean," I whined. "I'm tired."

"The faster you get out here, the faster you can get back to sleep in the car."

I slammed the faucet off and flounced out of the shower. I dried off in quick, angry movements. Why couldn't he just leave me be for a while?

He banged on the door again, "You have until the count of twenty," he said. Then he started counting.

Slightly panicked, I said, "I'm getting dressed!" I jerked on my underwear, t-shirt, and yoga pants in a rush. He didn't respond; he just kept counting.

On eighteen, I jerked open the bathroom door. "I didn't brush my teeth yet," I said in an accusatory tone.

He slid an arm around my back and guided me out of the bathroom. "You can do it later. Get your stuff packed and get in the car."

Sam came in with a sack of food and a drink tray with three cups. Dean went over eagerly to dig out a bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich. Sam dug out some yogurt thing with granola on the top. I stuffed yesterday's clothes into my backpack and pulled my sneakers on. By the time I finished, Dean was done eating his muffin, and Sam was headed out the door with his yogurt and coffee. Dean handed me a container of oatmeal and a spoon. He picked up my backpack and herded me out the door.

"No fair," I complained, put out that they couldn't wait for me and that I had oatmeal and not cinnamon rolls.

"Get ready faster, next time," he said mildly, opening the trunk to drop my backpack in. "Get in the car and eat your breakfast."

"Jesus," I muttered, stomping to the back door of the car, oatmeal in hand.

"Jessie," Dean said a stern tone. I stopped to look at him and he looked me straight in the eye, holding my gaze. "You are seriously trying my patience. Stop it. Now."

I swallowed and nodded. He held my gaze for a second or two longer and then turned to go around to the driver's-side door. I got in. Dean started the car, and I opened my oatmeal container to eat.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

I slept in the back of the car for hours, only waking up when Sam reached back and shook me because we were going to be getting to the coffee shop soon. I sat up and rubbed my arms. I always needed way more sleep than normal after controlling a big flame like that, and I still hadn't had enough. I wasn't itching yet, though. I was just tired.

When we pulled into the coffee shop, I got out of the car and got my backpack out of the trunk, lugging it into the bathroom of the coffee shop to change into jeans and brush my teeth. By the time I had changed and was out of the bathroom, Sam had talked to the barista and was headed back out to the car with Dean.

"Hey," I said, grumpily. "What the hell? Can't I get a coffee or something?"

Dean stopped and turned slowly to look at me with an eyebrow raised. "Not if you're going to ask like that," he said. Sam had also turned, but he looked slightly amused.

"Come on, Dean, I just woke up. Cut me some slack."

He shook his head but came back to me and handed me a ten. "Your slack is getting shorter and shorter by the second," he said. "We'll be in the car. Hurry up."

I rolled my eyes when he couldn't see me again, completely annoyed at his impatience with me. Why couldn't he just let me do what I wanted to do? It wasn't like I was disobeying his stupid orders or anything.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot as I waited in line. I glanced out the front of the shop. Sam and Dean were standing by their doors and talking over the top of the car. Dean glanced at his watch and then looked towards the store, clearly unhappy with how long it was taking me.

Finally, I'd reached the front of the line. I ordered a caramel Frappuccino and waited another five minutes while they made it. When I walked out of the store with my Frappuccino in my hand, Dean huffed and got into the car. It just annoyed me more. When I got into the car, I slammed the car door as hard as I could.

Dean turned around. "What is your problem?" he demanded.

Slightly startled, I stammered, "I'm, I'm just tired."

"That does not excuse you slamming doors and being rude. I was hoping that more sleep would help, but it hasn't. I'm serious, Jessie, cut it out."

I flushed and looked at my feet, slightly abashed. "Ok," I said softly.

"Good," he said and started the car.

I spent a couple of minutes just drinking my Frappuccino while we drove to the church that Kevin was staying in. Dean stopped the car and got out. Sam turned around. "Stay here until we come get you, Jessie. We don't know what we're walking into. Got it?"

"Yeah," I said sullenly. I sucked on the Frappuccino. Sam got out and walked with Dean up the steps.

What they were walking into was Kevin, a geeky nineteen year old who had been planning on going to Princeton before he found out that he was the prophet and had helped us defeat Dick Roman a year ago. What kind of danger was he going to be? Besides, I had controlled that giant flame last night. I had helped Dean stay alive in purgatory with it. I had the power of flame at my fingertips.

So why the fuck did I have to stay in the car?

I climbed out of the car and followed Sam and Dean up the steps. As I walked into the entry hall, Kevin was handing them towels. Then he said, "Jessie?"

I hadn't seen him in a year, and I guess it had been a hard year on him, but I'd be damned if he hadn't gotten really cute! He'd cut his hair really short, and while he'd been thin and spindly before, he'd gotten some muscle and filled out a bit now. I gaped at him.

Until Dean grabbed my arm and growled, "What the hell, Jessie? What did Sam _just_ tell you?"

Suddenly my great justification didn't seem so great any more. I stuttered to give him a response and couldn't come up with one. I flushed bright red as Sam shook his head at me too, clearly as displeased as Dean. Dean pointed at one of the pews. "Sit."

Embarrassed at having screwed up and been called on it in front of Kevin, I dropped my eyes and hurried to the pew. Dean watched me as I sat down and pulled my feet up onto the pew with me, hugging my knees. I tried to give him my best obedient girl look, eager to mitigate the trouble I was in.

Kevin told us about being taken by Crowley to read a tablet on demons and how he destroyed the demons that were guarding him, took the tablet, and ran. Dean was impressed.

Oh my God, Dean was actually impressed at Kevin tricking Crowley. The injustice of it struck me to my very core. It was unfair! I'd spent years with them, trying to convince them that my abilities would be useful as a hunter, fighting to control my abilities, fighting for their approval. And here Kevin had spent only a year in and impressed Dean with a single story and his ability to stay alive and away from Crowley for so long.

I wanted to cry.

It got worse as Kevin talked about closing the gates of hell. I could see Dean's excitement at the idea.

I hated Kevin.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam said, "We'll be right back. Jessie, you stay right there. Don't even think about getting up."

I nodded unhappily, and Sam and Dean went outside.

The church was getting dark, so Kevin started lighting candles around the sanctuary. "So what happened to you?" he asked as he lit candles.

I watched him light the candles with eagerness but no aching need to help. "I went to purgatory with Dean."

He stopped lighting the candles for a minute and looked at me. "You survived purgatory?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," I said. "It wasn't fun."

There were candles in the entry way, too. Kevin was on the other side of the sanctuary. Sam and Dean could come back at any second, but I really wanted to do this. I stretched out a tiny tendril and lit a candle, jumping the tendril from wick to wick to light them all, reveling in the tiny flashes of pleasure each flame brought me.

"How did you get out?" Kevin asked, his back to me.

I jumped and lost control of the tendril. I immediately grabbed it again, but not before the flame flared and melted the candle into a puddle of hot wax on the floor. Fuck. I pulled the tendril back inside of me before saying, "There was a rift that humans can go through."

"How'd you find that out?" He was done now and headed toward the entry way. "Oh," he said when he saw the lit candles. He glanced at me, but didn't say anything.

"Uh," I said. "I think if you want details, you'd better ask Dean."

Kevin sat down on the pew next to me. As much as I hated him right, now my heart beat a little faster. Sam came back into the church and said, "Jessie, Dean wants to see you outside."

I rolled my eyes, trying to disguise my dismay and anxiety in front of Kevin. "Why doesn't he come tell me that himself?" I grumbled, and then I jumped again when Sam put a hand on either side of me on the back of the pew that I was sitting on and looked down at me.

"You disobeyed a direct order, young lady. You are in a lot of trouble. Now is not the time to have an attitude," he said in a low voice, meeting my eyes.

"Yes, Sam," I whispered.

"Go," he said. He stood up, and I scooted off the pew and out into the entry way. Dean was standing by the door. He pointed to the door, and I went out onto the porch and waited. He stayed in the church for a couple of minutes before coming out.

I couldn't look at him. Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Tell me what you did wrong, little girl."

"I disobeyed a direct order, and if things had gone differently, I could have been in a lot of danger," I whispered, staring at my feet, face hot. I'd been in trouble for this before, a lot.

"What else?" he asked, and I froze, mind working furiously. He couldn't possibly have figured out that I lit a bunch of candles and accidentally completely melted one. I had no idea, and there was no point in confessing to something I wasn't sure he knew about. I'd made that mistake before, too.

"I don't know," I said.

"Your attitude today was horrible. You gave me shit every time I spoke to you. You have been rude and dismissive and grumpy, and I warned you about that, didn't I?"

"Oh," I said softly, "yeah."

"I don't want to embarrass you in front of Kevin," he said. "So, you have a choice. We can either do this in the car right now, or we can wait until later when we have more privacy."

I hated waiting, and he knew it. I was grateful that he didn't want to embarrass me and that he was giving me an option. On the other hand, I really didn't want him to spank me at all. "Dean, I'm sorry. Can't we just let it go this time?"

He shook his head. "You knew what was going to happen when you decided to disobey. Choose."

"Now, I guess," I said reluctantly.


	5. Chapter 5 - Flight

_Thanks for all the great reviews. This is the last chapter of this story. I'll be starting the next one soon on the second episode of Season 8. Also, I realize I've done a bit of a disservice. I started Jessie's story in the middle, but I have every intention of writing the origin story later. Thanks for reading!_

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

Dean took my hand and led me to the car. I was already fighting tears. Today had just sucked. It was just terrible and I'd helped it along on that way. Dean opened the back door, got in, and slid down until he was in the middle of the seat. He gestured for me to get in.

I briefly considered running, but it had never helped before. I climbed into the backseat, shut the door and put myself over his lap. My head was hanging over my backpack that was behind the driver's seat with the Biology book on top.

"I wonder if I could study like this," I said aloud, trying to distract myself from the inevitable.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," I responded quickly.

"Give me the hairbrush out of your backpack."

"Dean, no!" Alarmed, I tried to roll over and sit up, but he held me there in that ignominious position.

"Yes. You know better. We've had this talk far too many times, and I'm tired of it. Get the brush."

Fuck, fuck, fuck! But I didn't say that. Tears started falling from my eyes despite my trying to stop them. I reached into my backpack, pulled out my hairbrush, and handed it to him. Dean only ever used an implement when he was seriously pissed with something I had done.

"Get your jeans down," he said.

My shoulders slumped. This was so bad. I knelt up in the car and unbuttoned my jeans, yanking them down to my upper thighs before leaning back over his lap. He rested his hand on my lower back. I tensed, bracing for the first swat. I felt horribly guilty. I didn't know why I was so out of sorts today. I'd felt raw and achy the entire day and I'd taken it out on them.

He started with his hand, swat after swat raining down on my behind. I was already crying and couldn't keep count. My bottom was ablaze in seconds. "Dean!" I objected, trying to put my hand back to block the swats. "Dean, please! I'm sorry!"

Not one for talking while he was making a point, Dean merely caught up my hand and held it against my lower back. I struggled and squirmed, but between the lack of space in the backseat and Dean's mobility-reducing grip, I had nowhere to go.

Then he stopped, but it was only to pick up the hairbrush. I gasped when the first smack fell, sharp pain radiating through me. Each smack of the brush built on the pain of the last. I struggled more desperately, with the same results. I tried to count them, anxious for them to be over, but couldn't get past the third, and there were definitely more than three.

But then, mercifully, he was done and scooping me up to hold me against him. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry," I cried against his shoulder.

He held me tighter. "You cannot go around disobeying our orders, Jessie. They're for your safety. You know better. What got into you?"

I cried harder. "I'm not helpless," I said. "I can help you. I don't have to sit in the car."

Dean sighed and let me go. I turned and knelt up and yanked my jeans up over my sore butt. Once I'd fastened them, he pulled me back into his lap and kissed the top of my head.

"Look, Jessie. I get it. In purgatory, you helped keep us alive, but it was a survival situation. We had to fight and fight and fight or we were going to get killed. Now that we're back, the goals are different," he said. "I don't want you to have to fight all the time. I want you to get your abilities back under control. I want you to go to college and live a normal life, and if you're going to do all of that, you have to stay safe and out of the fighting."

_This again?_ I thought. I slumped against him and stared at my lap. "Can't I just wait until we've closed the gates to hell to do that? Can't I just help you until then?"

Dean stiffened and I thought I'd hit home, but he was smarter than that. "Yes. You can help me when I ask you to by doing exactly what I tell you to and nothing more." He couldn't see, but I rolled my eyes. Then he put his hand under my chin and tilted my chin up so I was looking at him. "I mean it, Jessie, unless you want to be here again."

I did not want to be here again, but part of me screamed at the injustice of not being able to help keep them safe when they were trying to keep me safe all the time. My reluctance must have been apparent, because Dean raised an eyebrow at me. "Do I need to make a further impression?"

I hurriedly shook my head. "No, Dean."

"Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Dean." He had, but I reserved the right to keep my thoughts on his stance to myself.

He hugged me a little longer, and then said, "All right, let's get back inside. Who knows what they're doing without us."

Dean grabbed a bag out of the back of the car before we headed inside. When we got back in, Dean set the bag on a pew and opened it.

That's when the church started to shake, the floor boards splitting up and down the middle of the church, disrupting the sigil there. Dean said, "We got company," and handed the demon-killing dagger to Sam. He pulled out his cleaver from purgatory and motioned for me to get back.

After the sharp reminder on obedience that I had just received, I didn't even think of disobeying. I put my back against the wall of the church and stayed there.

The fight was nasty. There were three demons. Sam killed two of them and one of them tried to choke Dean to death. Sam handed Dean the knife in time and Dean killed the demon.

I felt useless. Even Kevin had helped, shooting one of the demons with holy water, giving Sam and Dean enough time to get the upper hand. All I could have done was light a demon on fire, which had never helped in the past. Since demons can take a crapload of damage to their host body before having to find a new one, all it would do was give us a flaming demon, even more dangerous to us.

And then Crowley was there, insulting everyone. Kevin agreed to go with him and went to get his stuff. Eventually Crowley went after him. As soon as Crowley left the room, I ran over to Sam and Dean. Sam put his arm around me, and then we heard screaming, and Kevin yelled, "Sam, Dean, run!"

We raced out of the church and into the Impala. Kevin was right behind us. As we drove off, Crowley snapped Channing's neck. Kevin screamed her name.

We drove through the night, finally stopping for gas after the sun came up. Kevin was in shock. Sam asked him how he was holding up and the answer Kevin gave was full of hurt.

And then Dean told him basically to suck it up and got out of the car. It was so different than how Dean talked to me that I was stunned. Sam looked just as shocked.

"Jesus," I muttered. "What the hell?" I scooted over and put my arm around Kevin and hugged him. He was stiff in my arms, but then he hugged me back and I felt a couple of tears on my shoulder before he got control of himself again.

I let him go. Maybe the difference was that Kevin was in it now, and Dean still wanted me out of it. Maybe I was starting to see Dean's point, too.


End file.
